Just a Dream sonfic
by HumanKyt3
Summary: It's been 18 months since Stan had died in the army and no matter what Kyle tries to do, he just can't get over his death. Very sad until the end. Stan/Kyle


**I was standing around, being bored, when for no apparent reason at all, this idea popped into my head. I decided i really wanted to publish it and see if people liked it. I will continue with my other series, but i just wanted to attempt at a songfic. Sorry if it sucks. It is again in Kyle's point of view, they wont all be this way. Yes it is mostly sad. Please change all the "Shes" and "Her"s in the lyrics to "His" and "He"  
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**Song: Just a Dream by Carrie Underwood. if you've never heard it please go look it up, especially the music video. It makes me tear up every time and it was the inspiration to this whole story. Thanks and hope you enjoy :).**

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><p>I threw my tattered denim jacket over the couch when I walked through the apartment door of 5C. I hoped the grease stains from work didn't get on the couch. <em>He<em> had picked it out, and I didn't want anything to ruin it. Maybe I should throw it on a coat rack or a table instead, one of the things _I_ had chosen to decorate. While I was walking I bumped into an end table, knocking something down and hitting myself in my knee.

"OW! SHIT!" I shouted, but it sounded completely devoid of emotion. I bent down to see what had fallen and immediately wish I hadn't. I wish I had just been lazy and left it alone and gone to sleep in the misery that had been my life. But no, I _had _to see what it was, and the slowly healing wound in my heart ripped right open again.

It was a picture of Stan, smiling. I bent down to pick it up and I held it. The glass was now broken and strewn across the hardwood floor. I fell to my knees, the picture still in my hand.

'_I told you we should have gotten carpet instead of hardwood.'_ Stan's voice from three years ago echoed in my ear. Memories of him suddenly rushed into my head.

_**It was 2 weeks after the day she turned 18, all dressed in white**_

_I tugged on the bottom crease of the white tux, feeling lighter than air. Would white have been the color I'd have chosen? No, never, but Stan thought I should wear it and he agreed that when we got our vows renewed that he would wear white and I would wear black._

_I was a little disappointed and a pin pricked my heart at the thought of him leaving tomorrow morning for the army. When our parents found out about us being gay for each other, they were on the exact same page, and that wasn't thrilled. They were horrified, disgusted, appalled. But we didn't care. When we turned 16 we moved into an apartment and got jobs so we could pay bills. Usual couples would have been stressed out but not us. Never us, we loved each other too much. That didn't stop our parents from trying to tear us apart. 2 weeks ago my parents told me that they'd had enough of my foolish behavior and Sharon had signed her son up for the army to try and keep us separate. We decided to become closer than ever and get married._

_**Going to the church that night, she had his box of letters in the passenger seat**_

_I put my one hand on the steering wheel, taking a right where Stan had directed me to go. Another compromise from Stan. We'd follow some Jewish customs but it had to be in a Christian church. We were very good at compromising, another characteristic that made us such a perfect couple. My other hand was on a small box in the seat to my right in my ugly Grand Marquis from 1999. It was a weird grayish green color and had pale gray leather seats, but it was a quality car. The box held letters from all the times me and Stan had been separate. In our parents desperate attempts to keep us separate, I think Randy and Sharon nearly went bankrupt from all the vacations and hotels they stayed at for weeks upon weeks. Our parents had confiscated our phones and our computers because we still lived with them at the time, but they couldn't take away our papers and pens. So we wrote letters and sent postcard to all these places and we somehow managed to keep in touch even with Stan's chaotic vacationing._

_We had been frustrated, angry, sad, annoyed, yet never before had we been so happy._

_**A sixpence in a shoe, something borrowed, something blue.**_

_I got into the backroom, where I'd get my final touchups from Kenny, and Bebe. Stan was in another room getting his from Butters, Wendy, and Cartman. No way in hell was I going to have to see Cartman in a room with only one other person. I still couldn't stand him but he was a friend. A friend that drove me crazy and made me want to pull out my own hair at times, but still a friend. _

"_OMG Kyle you look adorable!" Bebe gushed, pointing frantically at my ensemble._

"_Thanks," I beamed, but inside I was terrified. I felt myself begin to panic. What if something went wrong? What if the ceremony was cut short? What if our parents, who had refused to come even though we invited them, decided to show up and protest? At any other town, that would seem irrational and near impossible. But this was South Park, and here, anything was possible._

_Bebe patted down my hair, which I had put some kind of sticky product in which tamed my wild jewfro into spiraling silky curls that cascaded down my face, brushing against my cheeks and jaw as I moved. It had never looked better, not even when I had done something similar for Prom. I had splurged on an even fancier product this time so I'd look perfect for my to-be husband._

"_Here, you'll need this" Bebe grabbed my foot and slipped a sixpence into the side._

"_Where the hell did you get a sixpence?" I asked._

"_Doesn't matter, what matters is you have it, but you also need-"_

_Kenny cut her off "something borrowed" he said to me, grinning happily for us. He handed me a silver wristband, with some kind of attachment on it._

"_And something blue," Bebe added, attaching a violet onto the wristband._

"_By the way" Kenny told me "I'll need that back. That cost too much money to just give away,"_

_I laughed "It's 'something borrowed' Kenny, you'll get it back."_

_Kenny patted my shoulder "Thanks man,"_

_Suddenly Butters ran in, nearly giving me a heart attack. "GUYS! We're ready!"_

_I gulped and stood up, trying to mentally prepare myself for the upcoming event._

_**And then the church doors opened up wide, she pulled her veil down, trying to hide the tears, oh she just couldn't believe it**_

_I stood behind the doors, feeling my panic level nearly reach its peak. Just as I was about to pull a very Tweek-like move and run like hell, the doors swung open, giving me no chance to avoid the terror._

'_I can do it, let's go' I began to walk slowly down the aisle. Suddenly, only a quarter of the way down the aisle, I caught sight of the beautiful man I would soon be wedded to._

_He looked back at me, his gleaming sapphire eyes suddenly opened up wide and a grin parted his face. It held the happiness that I had felt all these years. The 18 years that we'd known each other were gleaming off his startling white teeth. His hair seemed to shine in the glow of heaven and angels and their golden halo's, even though they were given off from the artificial lights. The ebony locks of hair toyed with the neatly trimmed eyebrows as they brushed into each other and rested their tips on his sturdy shoulders, not big or fat or meaty, just sturdy, strong. Just as his personality portrayed, Strong willed, hardworking, determined, yet with a heart of gold that seemed to touch everyone he met, leaving them feeling content, even happy. I had an urge to run down the aisle and leap into his well-muscled arms, but I contented myself with another step, wiping the tear that had begun to formulate under my emerald eyes and smiled back to him, letting him know I was as ready as I could ever be._

_**She heard the trumpets from the military band and flowers fell out of her hand**_

_The music had begun to play a meaningful yet upbringing tune as I slowly made me way toward my lover. I was extremely glad I was walking slowly, because I could feel my legs tremble. What if he thought I wasn't good enough? That had constantly been one of my fears, that the amazing jock would leave me for someone more deserving._

_I found my spot next to him and he whispered in my ear "You look amazing" I felt my cheeks flush as the priest said the words that would start the ceremony._

"_We are gathered here today to join Stanley Randall Marsh and Kyle Jeremy Broflovski in holy matrimony. . ." The ceremony went on as the priest talked and mentioned all the typical things they do in a wedding. I tried to keep my eyes on him but I couldn't help but sneak peeks at the man standing next to me. I knew he was doing the same because once our eyes bet and we both had to fight the urge to laugh._

_Even in the most serious of ceremonies, we still wanted to laugh, just because we were together._

_Suddenly Stan looked directly at me and said "I do," _

"_And would you Kyle, take Stan, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?"_

_I turned right toward Stan, letting my emerald eyes catch the attention of his deep blue ones. Because of the phenomenal lighting in the room, his irises were huge, showing off as much of the beautiful ocean color that they enabled. I let my eyes swim in his for the longest time, then finally smiled, seeing Stan get nervous and, loud enough for everyone to hear but directed only to him, said "I do,"_

_We put the rings on each other and when the priest permitted it and declared us a married couple, we kissed. It wasn't like the usual kiss. It was sweet and held meaning along with a lifetime filled with happy love._

_**Baby why'd you leave me why'd you have to go?**_

I didn't realize I was on the floor sobbing until I heard the doorbell go off. I looked down to see the broken picture frame bring clutched so tightly in my hands my knuckles were turning white. I set down the frame on the end table and tried to compose myself for my unexpected visitor. I opened the door with a polite smile on my face, only to change back to my normal (well now normal, it didn't used to be) scowl when I saw the man in orange.

"What do you want Kenny?" Kenny had gotten quite tall, reaching a height of 6'3. His dirty blonde hair was in its usual messy style and barely touched his shoulders. He tried to catch hold of my eyes with his brilliant bright blue ones that looked like a Caribbean sea but I moved my glare to the ground to avoid them. Kenny was now a male model, which was no wonder. He was the kind of guy that could only be described by perfect by anyone else but me. There would be only one perfect man for me, and he was gone.

"Hey cheer up man! What's got you so in th-" he stopped when he caught sight of the picture frame "Oh. . ."

"Yeah," I snapped, even though inside I was breaking as easily as the glass on the picture frame.

"Dude, you need to move on, Stan's d-"

I cut him off viciously "Don't say dead! Stan is never going to be dead! Yeah, he's passed away but that doesn't mean he's dead! As long as he's in my thoughts and memories, he will never EVER be dead!"

I felt myself fall back onto my knees and cupped my face in my hands while Kenny put a hand on my shoulder as I crouched in front of him. Stan was gone, utterly gone. As much as I have tried to deny it these past 18 months, I couldn't right now. I knew he wasn't here anymore, but my mind had told me that as long as I loved him enough, he would still be here. Now my best friend was telling me without words, with just the touch of a friend, that it was time for me to accept the fact in my mind.

Stan was dead.

_**I was counting on forever, now I'll never know. I can't even breathe**_

It must have been at least an hour before I managed to control the hysterical sobs that erupted painfully from my chest. My uniform from work was stained with tears and motor oil, but those had already been there.

"Dude, you're broken. I know he was your friend, he was mine too, but he doesn't want this, not for you. He loved you." Kenny pointed out.

I winced at the word "loved". Could Stan still love me in heaven? Or does he forget everything when he crosses over? Or were the atheists right and did he just become a rotting corpse in a coffin. That thought caused unimaginable agony.

"You won't ever know Kenny. I can't stop. I need him. No, not needed, _need_. He is my lifeline, my support. Imagine losing everything that made your world. Imagine losing your home, you're career, everything that made you happy. Put all that inside of one utterly beautiful person and have that ripped away from you. Then you'll know my pain. Or half of it," I looked up to him. His eyes were wide in surprise.

"Dude," I could see a stray tear fall from his eye "you really loved him didn't you?"

"No," I turned my head back to the floor, "I _love_ him."

Kenny pulled me back up and helped me to sit in the couch. Stan's couch.

_**It's like I'm looking from a distance, standing in the background**_

"You could have been a doctor, a lawyer, jobs that kids only dream of getting. You wound up working at a low down gas station. How the hell did that happen? No don't even answer; I know how it happened, once Stan . . . left, you destroyed yourself. You completely lost interest and you broke down. Kyle you had so much more potential. You ruined it."

"Get the hell out of my apartment," I growled. Not surprisingly, Kenny didn't leave, but he did use a gentler approach.

"Everyone's worried about you, even Cartman is getting concerned," I snorted. Cartman? Concerned? Yeah right.

I didn't listen to his next speech, or rant, or whatever the fuck it is he meant for me to listen to. It all went in one ear and out the other. I felt like I was floating outside my own body, and I had no idea where my spirit went. There was no more Kyle Jeremy Broflovski, he died the same day Stan did. Now there was only the weak, grieving shell that Kenny was just trying to cheer up. He didn't seem to understand.

_**Everybody's saying he's not coming home now**_

I just wanted Stan. His hair, his eyes, his laugh, his arms, his hands, his heart, his love, his smile. They were all six feet below, since the fateful day June 17, a year and a half ago.

_**This is just a dream**_

I found myself remembering the day the man came and tore my life completely apart.

_I was sitting on the couch watching a TV show with a special on the military. Speaking of, I wonder how Stan's doing. He's going to visit me soon; his last letter told me that he would be able to come home for a weekend in 2 weeks. I was extremely excited. I felt an excited jolt go through my body. Because the uncanny timing of the wedding and his shipping off, we never got a honeymoon. He promised when he came back, completely done with his services he's gonna give me a honeymoon straight in our own bedroom. I hope he's warm and safe and with friends. I found myself drifting from the topic and started making my own dinner. I was just about to settle down and eat it when I heard a ring on my door. I walked over to open it and saw a man fully dressed in an army uniform. I knew what they looked like; Stan had sent me a picture of himself in his. He looked so sexy in it. _

_This man didn't look sexy. He looked emotionless and cold; like he'd lived a very hard life. A scar ran up his cheek to his temple and he was missing a pinky on his right hand. I looked him in his completely blank eyes and asked "May I help you,"_

_He thrust a letter toward me with a strange robotic-like movement. I felt a flash of alarm. It almost looked like he was trying to keep his composure, trying to hide his emotions, forcing them to stay out of sight._

_I grabbed the envelope and opened the tap revealing an official military paper with an army emblem on the top. I begin to read_

_We are sorry to inform you that Stanley Marsh was killed during his service in the military. We grieve for your loss and send you our sympathy. . ._

_I wasn't reading the rest of the letter. My eyes focused back on the part that mattered, the part that repeated over and over again._

_Stanley Marsh was killed._ _Stanley Marsh was killed._ _Stanley Marsh was killed._ _Stanley Marsh was killed._ _Stanley Marsh was killed._ _Stanley Marsh was killed._

"_No. . . NO! No no no no . . ." My mouth could only formulate those words, they could only create those letters in the same heartbroken voice. I collapsed to my knees, feeling my heart completely shatter._

"_He can't be gone. He can't be . . . no. . ." my head fell into my knees as I cried in utter anguish. The man, who I didn't even look back up at, muttered "I'm sorry,"_

_And with that my door was shut and footsteps from heavy shoes retreated away from our-MY apartment._

_I was alone._

_No. . ._

I couldn't help myself. When one part of the pain of Stan's passing came into my mind, the whole entire agonizing experience would rush with it.

_**The preacher man said "let us bow our heads and pray"**_

_I gripped the bottom of my chair as the funeral began. I felt the pieces of my heart stab deeper in to every part of my body as the spoke, but I forced myself to deal with the pain that this came with and made myself follow the instructions obediently, for Stan._

_**Lord please lift his soul. And heal this hurt**_

_I had no concern with the fact that I was bowing my head in prayer to a god I wasn't supposed to believe in. I didn't care that I was Jewish. I turned my head down toward my lap and begged God to accept him happily and with open arms. I hoped he heart my inward plea. Maybe knowing that Stan was happy and well would help me through this utter loneliness and misery._

'_That's the problem' I thought 'until I can actually see him happy and well, I will never know if he truly is, so I will never be able to reassure myself.'_

_**Then the congregation all stood up and sang, the saddest song, that she ever heard **_

_Afterward, the choir stood from their chairs and begin to sing a mournful song in a low tune. It ripped me apart, every note, every tune, every peak and crest of the melody seemed to detach me farther form my body._

_**The they handed her a folded up flag**_

"_Kyle," a voice from above made me turn my head up._

_It was Sharon. Randy, Mom, and dad were right next to her, with tear streaked faces._

"_What?" I snarled at them, they all flinched. Good._

"_We should never have tried to keep you and him apart. If we had just been accepting . . . we had just said okay . . . he would- he would still be alive!" Sharon's apology ended in a wail as she buried her face into her husband's black tuxedo jacket. Randy just patted her back, murmuring comforting words into her ear, but he looked to be on the brink of tears as well._

"_You're the reason the most important person in my life is dead. I will never see him or hear him or even touch him ever again. I will _never_ forgive you. Any of you," my cold glare included my own parents. I knew that was harsh but they're actions murdered, the only person I could truly trust,_ _my best friend, my lover, my life. He was gone because our parents couldn't just be okay with their own children. Parents were supposed to be accepting and loving. They had been cold and cruel, twice as harsh as I was being right now._

_They placed something in my lap and walked away. I looked down to see the red, white and blue colors of our very own American flag._

_**And she held on to all she had left of him, oh and what could have been.**_

_I felt the tears begin to leak from my eyes yet again. He died; he was killed, for this flag. He lost his life with honor and dignity, for this flag. I didn't see what was so special about it. It was a bunch of bright colors that preschoolers could have designed. But suddenly, I saw the face of my ex-lover in the organized stars and orthodox stripes. I saw his amazing face, the face I had fallen in love with almost immediately but took 15 years to realize it. The face that stared back up at me was the face of a hero._

"_Oh Stan," I hugged the triangular folded flag and wept into its thick material._

_**And then the guns rang one last shot**_**.**

"_Alright men, lets finish this up with the respect the fallen warrior deserves" a strong, sturdy voice said. I heard the slaps of hands on hard surfaces and suddenly, one small gunfire was shot from the trusty rifle into the unusually warm night air. It shouldn't have been warm. It should have been cold and bone chilling, the way I felt inside my body. I knew no heat. The bullet seemed to make it final, Stan was gone, utterly and completely gone._

_**And it felt like a bullet in her heart**  
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_And then they lowered the casket into the hole, I felt my own heart go down with it._

_**Baby why'd you leave me why'd you have to go?**_

"Kyle? Kyle, are you alright?" Kenny's scared voice pulled me out of my memory stupor.

"Yeah, I'm alright," I faked the cheerfulness in my voice.

Kenny gave me a look and then pulled something out "Want a drink?"

It was a bottle of vodka. I snatched it and took large gulps of it straight from the bottle.

Kenny snatched it after the fourth gulp "Damn Kyle! Never knew you were a drinker,"

"I'm not usually," I admitted, sort of wanting to take it back and guzzle down the rest of the drink, but I knew that wouldn't end up good, plus it would be selfish to not let Kenny have some too.

I must not be drunk enough.

"Kyle," Kenny began, not even taking a sip of the alcohol as he set it on the table and looked into my eyes. I reached over and tried to grab the bottle but Kenny took it back from my hands and held onto it as he spoke in gentle words to me. "You need to let him go. He doesn't like you being sad,"

I glared at him "How would you know? You haven't spoken to him!" I quickly grabbed the bottle and took another 2 drinks before Kenny pulled it away from my lips, nearly spilling it on the couch.

I gave him an ice cold stare "You're pretty damn lucky that didn't get on the couch or else your ass would've been dead,"

"It's a dark blue couch, it wouldn't have shown up on there anyway," Kenny protested, looking a little surprised at my reaction.

"I don't give a flying fuck what color it is; don't spill anything on this damn couch!" I screamed.

I know I sound like I'm going crazy, but it almost felt like the couch held a spirit of Stan in it. The color of the couch was the exact color of his eyes and it made me calm whenever I sat on it. Whether it was just because it was comfy or because a piece of Stan's spirit was woven into the threads of the couch was beyond my knowledge. I like to think it was the latter.

"Okay, chill out Kyle," Kenny held his hands up in a surrendering pose.

I sighed. I could almost imagine Stan here with us, laughing about some stupid comment or some dumb action one of us had done. After we moved it, Kenny often stayed the night and we used to have what some might call slumber parties. I guess it was sort of true. No matter what they were called, they were fun; just me and Stan and Kenny and sometimes Butters or Cartman. We played drinking games, played poker, watched TV, talked, and even cried in here. Maybe that's one of the reasons after Stan had died I never left. I needed to still feel Stan with me and he had never been closer to me that in the small apartment on 5C.

"I miss our sleepovers," I admitted.

I imagined Kenny getting mad or even flipping out on me, but for once, he didn't try to cheer me up. He didn't say I needed to stop moping or that I needed to find someone else. He lowered his head and said in a saddened tone "I know,"

I looked at him in surprise. He looked back at me and said "Kyle, I've never been in love, but I've been close. I don't have what you had, but obviously it was strong. I know you won't ever stop being sad and I know you won't ever find someone new because the fact of the matter if you need him and he needs you. And I do miss him. Hell I miss him every day, but I'll never miss him, or anybody, the way you miss him."

I felt touched. He finally understood.

_**I was counting on forever, now I'll never know. I can't even breathe**_

"You, you get it," I finally managed to stutter out.

He nodded "Dude, Stan was a cool guy, always chill. He was what kept you level headed. Kept you sane. You always had a temper, and Stan was the water to your fire. You needed him to keep you cool. You were a perfect fit for each other, and I'm sure, if you had been given the chance, you would have had a long happy life together."

I suddenly had the image of me and Stan, old men with gray hair and wrinkled old faces, sitting side by side on wooden rocker chairs on a porch out in the country. I don't even know why it was the country, it just was. The sun had set and Stan reached out and laced his soft fingers with mine. I squeezed back and we smiled at each other. He'd comment on how nice my loose skin looked in the twilight and we'd both laugh.

I wiped my eye with my sleeve "I think so too," I told Kenny.

_**It's like I'm looking from a distance staring in the background everybody's saying he's not coming home now**_

Kenny gave me a smile, a kind one that looked like it was supposed to cheer me up. It did, for the first time in almost two years, I smiled with meaning.

"Tell me about your plans," Kenny urged. He seemed to know that having Stan in my mind not only hurt, but it helped too. It made me feel like he would be here forever, even if it was just in memories. It especially helped when other people mentioned him, it made me think I wasn't alone in my grief, even though many people had gotten over it by now. Even Stan's parents were close to being back to normal.

"We had planned on living together in here for a short time, then leaving South Park for good," I confessed.

"I see, you would've left me here alone," Kenny teased. A noise sounded from my lips and I think both me and Kenny were surprised to realize what it was.

Laughter. I was laughing. I felt bad. I wasn't supposed to be happy, I was supposed to feel sad and be remembering Stan.

It felt nice though, to laugh.

Kenny saw the guilt in my eyes and told me "You don't need to be guilty. He wants you to smile; he wants you to laugh,"

I gave him a thanks nod and continued "We were gonna go to college, save up money and buy a house. We wanted to get away. We didn't want our kids to have to face the shit we went through when we were younger,"

Kenny reminded me of how things worked "Uh Kyle, not to burst your bubble, but 2 guys can't have kids,"

"We wanted to adopt; A daughter and a son. We decided we'd have the daughter to have blue eyes and red hair and a boy that had green eyes and black hair. They would have been beautiful, the best and smartest kids ever. We'd have given them opportunities they couldn't have anywhere else. They'd have thanked us for taking them in and would love us and we'd have loved them. We'd pay for their college and when they moved out, we'd move into a smaller home, with a wraparound porch and a cozy feel to it. Maybe it'd be out in the country, where we could see all the stars and they'd smile back at us, forgiving our sins and reassure us that we were loved, if not by anyone else then by each other. We'd smile and stay in love until our times came. They were supposed to come eventually and they wouldn't have come at the same time but it shouldn't have been this far apart . . . never so long between our times to leave. A few months to a few years, never had I thought he would die this early and leave me alone to fend on my own. You're right Kenny, I need him."

Kenny pulled me into a hug and I didn't realize that I was crying yet again until I saw the wet spots on his shoulder.

_**This can't be happening to me, this is just a dream**_

We stayed like that all night, until I had worn myself out from crying. I curled up on the couch and slept, Kenny grabbed a blanket and he pulled it over me sometime in the night and then went to sleep in my room.

In the morning, I woke up at around 9:30; I went to make myself some breakfast. I made scrambled eggs, toast, and bacon. When Kenny woke up, he stopped in wonderment to see my feeding myself.

"Hey Kenny, wanna eat?" I asked him. He smiled bigger than I have seen him in a long time and pulled up a chair.

"Kyle, are you okay now? Have you finally been relieved?" the blonde boy asked me.

"Yeah, I think I'm finally beginning to heal. Do you really think he'd prefer me to forget?"

He gave me a glance that seemed to show all the truth his body could muster "Yes, Stan wants you to be happy. When you and him meet again, you will finally be fully healed but you can't walk around like a zombie. I think he's happy, even proud of you,"

I grinned and we ate in silence. When we were finished Kenny grabbed his designer coat and pulled it on his arms.

"I'd love to stay and hang out but I got to get to a photo shoot. Todays the last day I can be here, then I'm being shipped off to England to do some kind of weird shampoo commercial," Kenny told me, finishing buttoning his jacket. "Will you be okay?"

"Yeah, I told him, giving him a hug "Thank you Kenny, I'll call you, Kay bud?"

He patted my back "Yeah, bye," Before he closed the door, he said "I'm proud of you too Kyle, take care,"

And with that, he closed the door.

62 years later

_**Oh baby why'd you leave me why'd you have to go I was counting on forever oh now I'll never know**_

I lay on the couch, feeling myself shut down. Many years had passed since the fateful day that Kenny had turned my life around, now I was a gray old man, lying sickly on the couch.

Many things turned around when I decided to make my life better. I got a decent job as an accountant, I stayed in touch with Kenny and other old friend I stopped talking too, I even made up with My and Stan's parents. We were closer than ever for the remainder of their lives.

I even went out and adopted a kid when I was 30. I decided to getting a boy that looked just like Stan, so when the little blacked hair boy with the round blue eyes caught my own, I knew I had to adopt him. I got the paperwork done and now, Chris was a very successful man with a wife and children of his own. All of the people mentioned were standing around the couch, trying to hold back tears. I smiled up at them "This isn't a bad thing, this is a blessing"

_**It's like I'm looking from a distance standing in the background**_

I suddenly remembered when my parents had passed away, a year after Stan's parents.

"_Kyle, we'll all miss you, and were still deeply sorry about Stan," Sheila said before she could control herself. She covered her mouth, expecting the sobs and tears the name usually brought._

_But instead I smiled "It's okay mom, I forgave you a long time ago. And now I'm going to reunite with him. I tried to tell you nothing could keep us apart," I saw her tears as they fell down as she closed her eyes and didn't reopen them._

The doctor put a hand on Chris's shoulder "There's nothing more we can do, he's already on his way,"

"Goodbye everyone, I loved you all. Kenny, keep their spirits up when I'm gone 'kay?"

Kenny had retired around the same time as me, and now was looking tearful and sad, but managed to smile and say "I will, have fun with the angels,"

There was only one angel I was hoping to see. Not even Wendy, Bebe, Cartman, Or Tweek's angels could compare to the glory of Stan's.

My mind switched over to thoughts of him. I hoped he was the one who came down to claim my soul from my body. I wanted to see him for the first time in 64 years. I wanted to see him in his full amazing charm. I closed my eyes and sighed.

_**Everybody's saying he's not coming home now, this can't be happening to me**_

"Is he gone?" I heard the tearful voice of Clyde, but Token deeply told him "No, but he's almost,"

I heard sniffling as they all said their goodbye. I felt so loved by these people, the people who had accepted me in my broken state and even let me cry with them. They all deserved their own halos.

_I'm ready_

_**This is just a dream; oh this is just a dream**_

"Kyle, come on its time to go home," I couldn't help but open my eyes, but somehow I didn't. I felt myself detach from my body, leaving it cold and lifeless. I shivered.

"Who called me?" I asked.

"Me," I looked up to see a beautiful Stan floating down to caress me. I reach up and stroked his cheek, feeling a thin river run down my own.

"You're here," I smiled with the full force of my face.

Stan wasn't in white like I had thought he would be. Instead he was in black. A black, freshly cleaned tuxedo that formed to his shape nicely. There were no evidence of that had killed him, not even any of the old scars when we were children. He was the same age as. . .

I looked down to see myself, not old me but young me, 18 year old me, sporting a white tuxedo, I felt the rubbing of a coin in my shoe. I stared at my wrist to see the silver band and a blue violet against my pale skin.

Stan held out his hand extended to me "Are you ready to go home?" He asked.

I took the hand, feeling everything come back together in my world. Everything was right again. Me and Stan were back together. That's all that mattered.

"Let's go" we began to walk from what I realized was the front of the church we had been engaged in holy matrimony together nearly 64 years ago, or maybe it had been no time at all. It seemed that way from here.

We walked toward the back door, but instead of a soft sunlight floating into the room which illuminated the awaiting limo for us, there was just the brightest of lights. For some reason I felt no need to block my eyes. It didn't hurt them, it only fueled me to finally tell Stan what I had wanted to since he left.

"I love you Stan, and I missed you," I confessed. He used a finger to prop my head up to look into his eyes.

"Ky, I had always been there, even when you didn't notice it, I was there right next to you on that ugly blue couch," he smiled.

I playfully shoved him "Hey, it's not ugly! I happen to like that couch!"

Stan laughed a musical laugh, the laugh I had longed for since he left, the laugh I had fallen in love with.

I decided to do something.

I put my arms around his neck and pulled him down upon my lips, feeling everything go right in the world. He took me by the waist and pulled me in closer, letting the kiss last until the opening pulsed brighter. We pulled away, but still had a hold of each other.

"I do," He told me

I grinned "I do,"

And then we walked out of the church and into the brilliant white lights of heaven.

_**Just a dream, yeah yeah. . .**_

* * *

><p><strong>If you're confused then I will explain, no just because the song is called just a dream doesn't mean the whole time, Kyle was just dreaming. He was so sad and miserable he was hoping to be able to wake up and dismiss it as a nightmare but sadly for him, it wasn't. Thanks and please review but don't be too harsh please.<strong>_**  
><strong>_


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